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I entered into the nightmarish black hole that is internet service in Nigeria last year when I decided to get my laptop connected to the worldwide web. To get started I had to buy a data card which they assured me would bring high speed, secure connectivity anywhere in Lagos, and also pay a monthly subscription of N10,000 for 24 hour service, no “chicken change” in Nigerian terms.
For the first few weeks, all was well. Whether in my car, at the office or at home, I browsed to my heart’s content. Then, suddenly the honeymoon was over, as grim reality arrived. My PA began to spend hours waiting for connection, or re-connection. Browsing was painfully slow and unpredictable. Calling the customer service number was not only expensive but an exercise in futility as if you managed to get through to a human being, you would be offered one lame excuse after another. “Our engineers are working on the server”, “The problem is with your system, not with us” “It’s probably a virus”…
In the end, out of frustration, a visit to their offices in Victoria Island was the only answer. There, confusion reigned. A tiny space was set aside for handling complaints, enquiries, technical support, etc. One choked office – perhaps 10ft by 10 ft, with two overworked technicians crammed in with all their waiting customers. It was the height of unprofessionalism in the face of paying customers who could wait as long as 3-4 hours to have their problems resolved.
In my presence one day, the engineer got into a vicious slanging match with a young woman whom he felt had disrespected him. The eight or so people stuffed into the tiny room followed the shenanigans with interest, whiling the waiting time away as though watching a particularly juicy home video. No manager appeared on the scene to resolve the problem, which did not end until the woman stalked away hurling more insults over her shoulder.
My connectivity problem did not improve thereafter, so I decided to terminate my expensive laptop subscription and invest instead in a desktop solution that I could use in my home office. It took about a dozen telephone calls to get an engineer to visit my home to install the equipment. Another installation fee, N11,000 for a desktop phone plus N7000 monthly subscription for daytime connection. No apologies, no refunds, more empty promises of improved service.
Alas, the joy of browsing didn’t last long. Within a few weeks, it became virtually impossible to get connected. On the odd occasion when the connection was through, it would constantly disconnect after a few minutes. It appeared the signal was poor in my area, an important fact which the “engineer” had failed to point out on his visit. Getting through to customer service was impossible since – guess what? – the telephone line did not work! Emails were ignored. A visit to the sales office in a posh shopping mall elicited the bored response that “It must be your system at fault, can you bring it in for us to look at.”
Finally, something snapped and I stormed into their cupboard of an office for a face-off. As usual, paying victims – sorry, customers, sat around waiting for crumbs of comfort. The technician was strangely unmoved. “Somebody said it’s because of where you live. The signal there is too weak unless you get an external antenna.”
Ye gods, someone had actually (a) confessed that the service was to blame, and (b) proffered a solution! He advised me to see another expert hidden in a cubby hole, blithely eating his lunch, while three or four frustrated customers jostled for attention through a tiny hatch. “Well”, he said with relish between mouthfuls of jollof-rice-and-chicken, “I can help you by selling you an external antenna for N6000. You will find an electrician to install it. Then your problem will be solved.” Amazingly, what he was offering was an unofficial solution – this was something he just rigged up himself in his spare time.
“OK”, I replied, “but you will have to provide someone to come and install it, and make sure it works, or else, no deal.”
“There will be a charge of N4,500 for that”, he warned.
We haggled and I managed to beat him down to N3,500. The proposed installer appeared at my side as if by magic and began demanding that I arrange transport for him to get to my house until I gave him a withering stare and his voice tailed off.
Bearing in mind I was still paying the monthly subscriptions for a service that did not work, I thought I was already being overly generous. I insisted I would pay on delivery.
We agreed this would happen the following day, which meant I would be forced to stay at home all day as I was not prepared to entrust this sensitive task to my domestic staff. The next day I got a call to say it would be postponed until the following day. Again the next day, another call to say it would be the following day. Three days of keeping a busy paying customer sitting at home twiddling her thumbs without internet access…
At last my man arrived, a mere four hours late on Day 3. By the way, a long ladder was required. And, oh yes, a metal pole to rig the external antenna. You don’t happen to have one just lying around? Oh dear. (Thankfully there are building works going on around my estate so I was able to buy a suitable pole from an opportunistic construction worker.)
Up goes the pole. Up goes the antenna. Test the internet connection. The signal is much improved but…. the disconnection continues. Uncomfortable pause from the installer.
“I have called the office and they say the problem is with the switch there. They will regulate it by this evening.”
“So you would like me to pay you N9500 so you can go and leave me in the lurch again?”
“I have done my work. The signal is much better.”
“You must be joking. Tell you what. I’ll pay for the antenna and N1000 for your transportation costs to get here. Once the “switch” is up and running properly I will personally come to your office and give you the balance of N2500.”
He could not refute this logic although he tried to, rather feebly, and left with his tail between his legs.
I made one final pilgrimage to the office, where I was received by a courteous manager who sympathized and offered me a week’s free subscription – for a service that refuses to connect!
As I write this, I am still without reliable internet access from my Lagos base, so bear with me if my interventions on NVS become increasingly sporadic.
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Posted by Robot| 25.09.2008 19:47